Her Disciple On Earth
by The Hermione Granger Fan Club
Summary: A thirteen-year-old Ben can't let go of Manticore or the Blue Lady...


2012  
  
My name is Ben. I call myself Benjamin Blueman, after the Blue Lady. I'm thirteen and I live in a Children's Home in New York. Unfortunately, it was one of the only things that didn't collapse after the Pulse. I've had two foster placements- one when I was eleven, the other when I was twelve. Neither worked out. Apparently, I'm a handful.   
  
I've seen my file- it says I'm introverted, imaginative and fanatically religious. Geez, what is it that's so fanatical about having a picture of the Lady in your room? Well, a couple of pictures.  
  
On the Outside they call her Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, or the Virgin Mary. I am Her disciple on Earth, just like I read in that book. I heard She was in it and stayed up for three nights reading it. I'm a fast reader. It was kind of a waste of my time, because She didn't come in until very late in that book. But it was a good book anyhow. It wasn't a problem- I can't stay up as long as Max and Jondy could, but when I need something, I put my mind to it.   
  
I miss Max and Jondy. They're both twelve years old now. I miss all my brothers and sisters. Namely Jack. Especially Jack...  
  
Like the Lady protected us, I was Jack's mentor. I watched out for him. I was angry at Her that night, when they found me, took apart the High Place and forbid us to go up there again. But then I realised- She was testing me. I wasn't angry any more, but I still miss Jack.   
  
I was broken inside. I knew soldiers don't look back, don't miss their passed squadron members, but I couldn't help it- Jack was the one who called the Lady to us in the first place. The janitor gave Her picture to him as he lay in bed, helpless with seizures.   
  
Jack, I miss you. Couldn't you have held on just a few more years? Then you'd be on the Outside too. It's scary out here, but at least you'd be alive.   
  
Tinga was a real help those first few days after losing Jack. She was one of my favourite sisters. Tinga liked my stories, she could always remember them to the very last word.   
  
Out here, they don't like my stories. We were supposed to write stories about people we admire for English class. I was rapt, but I couldn't choose. Should I write about the Lady, the men and women who preach her word or soldiers? In the end, I chose soldiers. The Lady is all my own, and I wasn't gonna share Her word with my English teacher, Mrs Parr.   
  
I couldn't to get our marks back. My brothers and sisters at Manticore always liked my stories because they made them feel loved and protected. But at the top of my very first written story, Mrs Parr wrote, "A nice try, Ben, but this paper focuses on a somewhat juvenile, gruesome and unrealistic sterotype of soldiers. You also seem to have a very warped imagination. Better luck next time."  
  
I was crushed. My stories were what made me unique, special to my siblings. I hated her, I hated her so much as she stood there with that calm look on her face, watching me read that comment. She'd put red pen all over my story, crossing out all the most important parts. I was surprised she hadn't ripped it in two right in front of my eyes.   
  
I never did concentrate so hard on my stories, after that. I tried telling the one about the Nomalies to the little kids at the Home, but they cried and had nightmares.   
  
The other kids think I'm weird. I used to trail around after the other boys, try to be their friend. Sometimes I'd slip up and say something they could make fun of. "My brothers and sisters used to like that story about the Nomalies," I hissed mutinously. Nobody believed I had any brothrs or sisters because their names weren't in my file. Everyone thought they were my imaginary friends or something. Everyone blatantly told me I was just another unwanted kid, like the others.   
  
They wanted me. They wanted my stories, my late-night shadow puppets, my assurance that everything would be all right as long as we believed. My sisters and brothers wanted me.   
  
One of the other guys laughed. "You're a dork, Ben. All you ever talk about are your Nomalies and your imaginary brothers and sisters and your Virgin Mary."   
  
"Yeah, YOU'RE a Nomaly, Ben!" joked another boy.   
  
I froze. "What did you call me?"   
  
"Hey, don't do that whole freaky 'possessed' thing with your eyes, Ben. That's another thing that scares the little kids," he said.   
  
"I AM NOT A NOMALY!" I bellowed, racing at him. There was no discipline in my fists as I started punching him. Got 'em in the nose, eyes, teeth, jaw. Everyone gasped, backed up against the walls.   
  
Girls yelped, shrieked, "Stop it Ben! Someone stop him!"   
  
I was dragged off by the house parents and locked up in a quiet room to think about what I did while Frankie, the guy I beat up, went to the doctor to see if there'd be any permeanant damage.   
  
"What was it that Frank said that upset you so much?" asked Deidre, the house mother.   
  
"You wouldn't understand."   
  
"Was it about your brothers and sisters? Ben, you have to understand that they're not real-"   
  
More doubt. "They are real!" I insisted. "I can tell you their names!"  
  
"You've told me their names over and over again, Ben but let me ask you something: can your siblings talk to you?"   
  
"No. They could once. I miss them," I confessed. That was for sure. I hadn't seen any of them in over a year.  
  
"Oh?" Deidre looked nervous. "Ben, did your sisters and brothers talk to you a lot?"   
  
"In the night, mostly. We weren't allowed to talk in the daytime. I'd tell them my stories. THEY liked my stories."  
  
"Did they tell you to do things? Say you mustn't tell anyone, Ben?"  
  
"I'm not having delusions."   
  
"Of course you're not."   
  
I swore at her and made like I was going to throw my chair at her. She ran out of the room.   
  
I sat there in the dark. The dark didn't phase me. I could see perfectly.   
  
I began to talk with the Blue Lady. Outside they call it praying, but I just talk. "Ma'am, I wish You'd come. I wish You'd talk to me. I want out of here- why did I ever want out of Manticore? Everything made sense there. I could explain everything. I wasn't afraid, not much anyway. Are You there?"   
  
Silence and dark.   
  
"Please come. I need You so badly. Sometimes You're so close I feel like You're here, telling me You'll take care of me. I believe in You! What do I have to do to make You feel like I believe in You?"  
  
She wasn't there. I was starting to feel like She'd never be there for me again.   
  
For the next few weeks, all the other kids were afraid of me. They didn't bump into me on purpose or play pranks on me because I scared them. But nobody talked to me.   
  
I obtained a notebook and wrote down my stories. I hoped one day I could tell them to the others again. Sometimes I'd write down what I felt. It was always the same, "I don't know why they act like that. I can't explain why they act like that... they think I'm a freak... they make fun of me, of the pictures of the Lady I have on my wall. I will not tolerate anyone making fun of her."  
  
This year I'd started to feel better. They'd forgotten the incident with Frankie- Frankie was being downright civil to me. They all were. I cheered up. I even took down a couple of the pictures of the Blue Lady. I believed in Her, but I didn't need to tell Her all my problems.   
  
What a fool I was. The Lady, of course, had to punish me. She had to show me that the only way to the Good Place was through Her.   
  
I still skirted around some kids, and they avoided me, but I'd made a very good friend. This girl, about my age, maybe a few months younger. Her name was Tahra Collins. We started 'hanging out' (as the other kids said). We'd wait for each other when we took the minibus to school. We'd even sit together or visit each other in our rooms. She said I was cool, nice, funny, clever.   
  
I couln't find the words to tell Tahra what a great friend she was. I didn't need to. She knew I liked her more than any kid I'd ever met on the Outside without me ever telling her. We got pretty close. People teased us and called Tahra my girlfriend. I didn't really care. She was the first and only person in a very long time who could make me laugh and smile.   
  
Once I went to find Tahra and listened to her talking with some of the other girls. She mentioned me and they giggled. "Your BOYFRIEND, Ben Blueman," they laughed. "He's butch- I heard he's got a tattoo."  
  
My hand flew to the back of my neck, and I grimaced. I usually wore a Band-Aid or two over my barcode, but sometimes I forgot. I waited to see what Tahra would say.  
  
"Ben's not my boyfriend. I don't know why you guys make fun of him so much. He beat up Frankie that time, but I heard Frankie called him something really nasty."   
  
"Did Ben tell you that?"  
  
"Yes he did, and I believe him. He's really nice once you get to know him. I think it's sort of sweet that he's so religious. It's sad, he lost all his brothers and sisters and he doesn't have any parents."   
  
"Neither do a lot of us."   
  
"He told me one of his brothers and one of his sisters were shot. Right in front of his eyes."  
  
There was a silence.   
  
"He doesn't have any brothers or sisters. Remember, Deidre told us to humour him about that?"  
  
"I don't think he's lying. He misses them something awful, he says to me."  
  
"He never told us that."  
  
"Of course he'd tell Tahra. She's so much more special to him than the other girls."   
  
They giggled again. Tahra let them have their laugh and said, "Ben's really good to talk to and laugh with, but he's not my boyfriend. He's kind of a surrogate big brother."   
  
I would have had Tahra for a sister any day of the week. Nobody could replace my real sisters... but Tahra was so good to me all the time. She honestly believed my anecdotes about the others. If I was ever gonna tell anyone at this Home about Manticore, about what they did to us there- it would have been Tahra.   
  
I talked softly to the Blue Lady that night, as I lay in bed. "You sent Tahra to me, didn't You? I don't feel I have to be a good soldier when I'm with her. She's just my friend, no matter what."  
  
The next morning, Tahra collapsed on the stairs as she went to get a drink of water. A seizure. She couldn't talk or anything, it was so bad. They rushed her to the hospital to operate but it was no use... she died of a cyst in her brain.   
  
I'd done it again. On my account, one I cared deeply about was dead. First Jack, now Tahra. I couldn't talk for days. I was silent and stopped eating. I wouldn't go to school. I wouldn't leave my room. I wrote countless letters to Tahra in my notebook, thanking her for being such a good friend, apologising... the Lady sent Tahra to me, for being such a good soldier. When I'd made that remark about not needing to be a good soldier, I'd practically killed her. I'd sent her to the Nomalies.   
  
I was angry, resentful but again I realised that I needed to be a good soldier, to please the Lady.   
  
And that's why I'm up here now. My new High Place. Up on the roof of the Home, I've taken my favourite pictures of the Blue Lady and put them up here. I bring her sacrifices. Once I stole a tooth from under one of the little kids' pillows, but I can't keep doing that. So I steal coins or pretty things out of the others kids' rooms, or just take my own things to Her. I write prayers to Her in my notebook.   
  
"Blue Lady of Manticore," I begin my usual praise of Her. "I am Ben of the X5 group, Your disciple on Earth. Keep my brothers and sisters safe. Bestow Your blessing on my dead brothers Danny and Jack and my dead sister, Eva, and all of the X5 class. Keep me safe from the Nomalies. Keep- keep Tahra safe from the Nomalies. I believe in You. She would have believed in You too."  
  
I talk to Her for a long time. The Lady is my gift, my messiah, my life. I find Her wherever I go.   
  
I found Her in Tahra, in Jack, in my stories... I am Ben, X5-493. For as long as I live, She'll protect me from harm. One day I'll be in the Good Place with the others and it'll all be worthwhile. Until then- I must live wondering why I could escape Manticore, but I will never escape Her.   
  
* * *   
  
DISCLAIMER: Everything except my original characters- Frankie, Deidre, Mrs Parr, Tahra, Danny (that's Crow Boy, he's mentioned in my other DA fics) etc- belongs to James Cameron and Fox. 


End file.
